


Breathe

by Mortimer_Dead_Sea



Series: Fuck Stephen King: Mort Goes Apeshit Over IT [10]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Eddie Kaspbrak Has Hanahaki Disease, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Flower Language, Fuck Stephen King, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Hanahaki Disease, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Minor references to blood, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Swearing, That's why it's rated T, just a bit, just wanted to tag it just in case, kombucha girl references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-23
Updated: 2019-11-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:26:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21534427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mortimer_Dead_Sea/pseuds/Mortimer_Dead_Sea
Summary: "And then [Richie] smiled at Eddie, bright and happy, and Eddie froze looking up at him. Then he felt something tickling his throat, and he coughed, nearly scrambling to get out of the water to get to his fanny pack for his inhaler before he coughed something up. He looked down at it, and noticed a flower petal. He couldn’t tell what flower it came from, but it was pink, darker with the saturation of the water. A cold chill ran through him."Eddie gets Hanahaki Disease and does his best to hide it.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: Fuck Stephen King: Mort Goes Apeshit Over IT [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1511162
Comments: 8
Kudos: 155





	Breathe

**Author's Note:**

> Had the strong urge to write some Hanahaki and this happened. Oddly enough, I’ve never written Hanahaki before (not that I remember at least). Maybe I’ll do it more often.

Eddie didn’t know when he fell in love with Richie. He did know when he realized it. He realized it one afternoon at the quarry, when the two of them were sitting off to the side while everyone else was in the water. Eddie had scraped his knee, and Richie had offered to clean it up for him, making sure it was disinfected and bandaged, even agreeing to use hand sanitizer first because he knew it would put Eddie at ease. Then it was all patched up, and before Eddie could even thank him, Richie was pushing him into the water, laughing through Eddie’s curses and insults. And then he smiled at Eddie, bright and happy, and Eddie froze looking up at him. Then he felt something tickling his throat, and he coughed, nearly scrambling to get out of the water to get to his fanny pack for his inhaler before he coughed something up. He looked down at it, and noticed a flower petal. He couldn’t tell what flower it came from, but it was pink, darker with the saturation of the water. A cold chill ran through him.

“You alright, Eds?”

Eddie looked back up at Richie, and noticed he was ready to get into the water, inhaler in hand in case Eddie needed it. Eddie felt the tickle in his throat again but did his best to hold it off.

“I’m fine,” he said. “And don’t call me, Eds.”

Richie just smirked and put the inhaler back before jumping in the water himself. Eddie tried to yell at Richie for splashing him, but he couldn’t find it in him to get any heat behind the statement.

That night, Eddie laid in bed, staring up at his ceiling. He knew what it was, had read about it in one of those books of old diseases his mother had lying around. He knew what Hanahaki Disease was, and he knew he was in love with Richie. It should have shocked him, but it didn’t.

He coughed up another petal, and added it to the growing collection in his trash can.

\----

A week went by with little change in the number of petals Eddie was coughing up, or how much it hurt his throat. He was grateful, hoping that maybe it would never get worse, even if it never went away. Eddie knew how to get rid of it, and all options seemed pretty terrible. He tried to rationalize that going to his mother and asking her to take him to a doctor to remove the flowers wouldn’t be the end of the world. That it would be better if he could lose his romantic love for Richie and continue pretending like he was a normal boy with normal heterosexual urges to please his mother and the rest of Derry.

But every time he looked at Richie, and felt that telltale tickle, he knew he didn’t want to let it go. A deeply irrational part of his heart craved this sickness, wanted proof that his love was real and that it wasn’t something so easily lost or changed. He _wanted_ to love Richie, and that was the scariest, most confusing thing to Eddie. That he wanted to be sick. That he wanted to be in love with his best friend.

His second option, aside from surgical removal, was confessing to Richie and hoping he loved him back, and that was _completely_ out of the question.

And of course, his third and final option. Letting them grow until they choked him, letting it kill him. He almost thought it would be fitting. Some days, he thought loving Richie really would kill him, in more ways than one.

He sighed, and took a sip of his drink.

“What are you drinking?”

Eddie looked over at Richie and cleared his throat. “Kombucha?”

“You drink that shit?” Richie asked, examining the bottle as if it were a foreign entity.

“Yeah,” Eddie said, hand tightening on it almost protectively. “It’s good.”

“Can I try it?”

Eddie studied Richie for a few moments before sighing. “Fine.”

He handed the bottle over and Richie threw it back to take a swig. He moved it around his mouth before swallowing. He made a face, but then relaxed, but then his face twisted again.

“No,” he said. Then he stopped again and said, “Well-”

“Do you like it or not?” Eddie cut in.

Richie paused, and then said, “No, it’s fucking gross.”

Eddie rolled his eyes with a groan. He went to take it back, but Richie held it out of his reach and yelled. “Bev! Come drink this!”

Eddie looked over and saw Bev sprinting over. “What is it?”

“It’s kombucha,” Richie said. “It’s Eddie’s. It tastes rancid.”

Bev grabbed it and took a swig herself. She paused and then said, “I like it!” She clicked her tongue. “The _flavor,_ you know?”

“Ok you’re fucking dead to me.”

“Can I have my drink back?” Eddie swiped it from Bev and wiped the top off with the hem of his shirt and then took another sip. 

Richie was laughing, and once Eddie had swallowed his sip, he looked up at him, and froze at the sight of his huge, beautiful smile and bright, shining eyes. Eddie felt the scratch again, but this time stronger, painful even, and he started coughing.

In an instant, all of Richie’s attention was back on him. “Eds! Are you alright? Do you need your inhaler?”

Eddie shook his head, and sprinted to the bathroom. As soon as he was inside, he latched onto a sink and started hacking, tears springing into his eyes as an entire flower head fell into the sink. He heaved as soon as it was out, throat burning. He looked down at it, and with the whole flower intact, he could identify it. A pink carnation, dappled with water, blood, and phlegm. He lifted it gently, trying to pay no mind to all that was on it, and stared at it for a few moments, this proof in his hands.

Then he suddenly remembered where he was, and he scurried into one of the stalls, flushing it down the toilet.

The bathroom door opened and he was met with Richie.

“Are you alright, Eds?” he asked, concern and fear etched into his features.

Eddie looked at him, too frazzled to even think to reprimand him for the nickname. “Yeah, I’m… I’m fine.”

Richie didn’t look convinced, but he dropped it.

That night, Eddie thought about the concern on Richie’s face, the care in his eyes, the largeness of his smile, and the volume of his laugh. He coughed up three more full flowers.

\----

Eddie had developed a system. Deposit all flowers and petals into his trash can, which he kept hidden under his bed. Then at night, he would burn them and flush the ashes, so his mother would never find them.

Unfortunately, he could no longer hide the coughing fits from his mother, and he remained on bed rest, not allowed to go anywhere. He was resigned to his fate of never leaving his room again, knowing that there was no solving this unless he told his mother the truth and was taken to see a doctor.

It had been about a week’s worth of bed rest when there was a tap on his window late one night. He sat up, and was met with Richie silhouette, illuminated by the moon, the stars, and the street lamps. He would recognize that exact image anywhere. His throat itched, and he could feel vines growing and twisting further in his throat, threatening to choke him. 

He got up from his bed, and opened the window. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I came here to see your mom, but her window was locked, so here I am,” Richie said.

Eddie settled him with a glare. “I can and will push you out of this window and laugh when you hit the ground.”

Richie held up his hands in surrender. “Ok, ok. I wanted to see you. You’ve been out of school for a week and I wanted to see how you were feeling.”

Eddie stomach flipped at that. He felt a cough building in his throat. Wordlessly, he stepped out of the way of the window, and Richie hopped in.

“So, what’s the word, Dr. K?” Richie asked. “How are you holding up?”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “It’s just a cough. My mom’s worrying over nothing.”

“While I would never put unnecessary worry past good ol’ Mrs. K,” Richie started. “I am a bit worried.” His gaze softened. “You’ve had this cough for weeks, and it seemed to only be getting worse.”

Eddie sighed. “But still. I’m definitely not contagious or anything.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Richie relented. “I’m just worried is all.” He grinned. “Even if I know it would take a lot more to take you down.”

It was spoken like a joke, but the lilt in Richie’s voice was one of care, and admiration. It made Eddie’s heart lurch, and that cough was threatening to spill. If he so much as opened his mouth, he knew it would escape like a bird from its cage.

Richie cocked his head, smile faltering just a bit. “Eds? You ok?”

Without even thinking, Eddie opened his mouth to answer him, to assure him that everything was fine, but then the coughing started. Immediately, Richie sprang into action, resting a hand on his shoulder, and another on his back, sitting him down on the bed, and then sitting next to him to rub up and down his back in long, slow, comforting strokes. That was all it took, and Eddie coughed up another flower, right into his own hands.

Richie stared at it. “E-Eds?”

Eddie was shaking. Wordlessly, mechanically, he fished the trash can out from under his bed, plopped the flower inside, and then grabbed a hand wipe to clean the mess from his hands.

“Eds… What was that?”

Eddie sighed as he dropped the wipe into the trash on top of all the flower heads. He knew there was no avoiding it.

“I have Hanahaki Disease,” Eddie said. “That’s why I’ve been coughing.”

Richie looked down at the trash bin, and then up at Eddie. “Who?”

Eddie winced. He knew that was coming. He took in a deep breath, and then exhaled sharply. “It’s _you,_ Richie.”

Then the world froze, and Eddie thought that if the flowers didn’t choke him, then the silence would. But then Richie was grasping his face, turning him so they were face to face and then kissing the side of his mouth.

And then Richie whispered, “I love you, too.”

And just like that, the vines retracted, and the flowers dissolved, and Eddie took in a deep, painless, shaky breath for the first time in weeks.

And then he grasped Richie’s face, and kissed him, square on the mouth.

Eddie burned the flowers and wipes, flushed the ashes, and returned the trash bin to its original place in his room. Then he crawled into bed, and Richie crawled in with him. Eddie set his alarm early, to make sure Richie would be up early enough to escape without Eddie’s mother finding him.

Then he finally laid down, felt the bed dip, felt Richie’s arms wrap around him.

And he just breathed.

**Author's Note:**

> Pink carnations mean “I’ll never forget you”. Hehe.  
> (The kombucha girl joke was something I’ve had kicking around for a while, and I realized I could fit it in here.)  
> So I have one more main IT fic idea, and it’s supposed to be multiple chapters. I want to have the whole thing written before I post anything, though, so that might be a while from now (I’m really bad at things with multiple chapters. A super dope trait for someone who wants to be a novelist). I might also potentially have another one-shot I can squeeze out (lest I get anymore ideas).  
> My Twitter: @mortimerdeadsea


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